


What We Have Here is a Failure to Communicate

by Who_First



Category: Batman (Comics), Marvel
Genre: M/M, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-30
Updated: 2012-01-30
Packaged: 2017-10-30 08:16:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,366
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/329696
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Who_First/pseuds/Who_First
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tim meets someone who dresses a lot like his lover</p>
            </blockquote>





	What We Have Here is a Failure to Communicate

The first time Tim met Deadpool, the mercenary had promptly shoved him against the wall and attempted to snog the life out of him, it was all a misunderstanding. Tim had been quite curious as to how Deathstroke suddenly switched missing eyes and so was waited for his mercenary to finish beating up the gang members before approaching. Ok so the…odd… talking, well the talking and jokes at all, should have clued him in on the fact that this was not his part time bed partner. Or enemy with benefits.

Still. Orange and blue costume, check, only single eye visible, check if wrong eye, the ability to shrug off what should be mortal blows, check, and faster than the eye could properly see, check. Then when the masked mercenary finally finished with the gang, and spotted Tim hanging out in civilian dress, well there was some, okay a lot of kissing, it was all normal Deathstroke behavior.

And that was when Tim figured out there was a problem. He _knew_ Deathstroke’s lips, knew them even before he really wanted to, and these lips _did not_ belong to Deathstroke.

“Damn. You are one hot kisser sweetheart.”

A pause for a second soul stealing kiss.

“How about dinner this weekend? Don’t worry Deadpool will be happy to pick you up~”

Tim watched in open mouth shock as the _not-Deathstroke_ vaulted up the side of the building and vanished.

“Well…” Tim spoke reflexively to the moaning gang members. “That was different.”

“Hey man…”

Tim looked down, startled to see one of the gang members staring up at him through a swollen face, and squatted so he wouldn’t have to strain what had to be a broken mandible.

“Is that your boyfriend? You shouldn’t hang with dude like that,” A cough and a few teeth were spat out. “He could hurt you.”

“Oh thanks.” Tim eyed the bleeding mass of gang. “I’ll call you guys and ambulance.”

“T’anks g’geous.”

~~~~~~

When Tim got home he immediately went to the bat cave, sadly his plans to subtly found out who ‘Deadpool’ was were broken by Dick hanging around the computer showing Damian…. What was hopefully not porn.

“Tim!” Dick looked rather shocked, which hurt a little bit. “What are you doing here?”

“I wanted to look through Batman’s files.” Tim shrugged it was the truth.

“Tt. Go away Drake. Cause problems elsewhere.”

“Dami hush. Is it important Timmy? We’re working.”

“No.” _It just meant walking around acting normal and waiting for a probably psychotic mercenary watching him_. “It can wait.”

“Finally. Vanish Drake, we do not need your kind around here, _we are busy_.”

Tim rolled his eyes, irritation and pain warring in his chest, before turning around and leaving. Really who should have known better than to get help here, with Bruce out of town Dick and Damian had taken over the cave for their own use. Oracle maybe…

No, Tim wasn’t about to call Oracle for information, not when it could get back to Dick. Brothers were only protective when he didn’t want them to be. Besides he had a much better contact to get information from. As long as he wasn’t currently off exterminating small, _or_ _large_ , countries.

~~~~

“Drake.” Slade was purring happily at him, so he probably wasn’t killing of people who irritated him, maybe. “To what do I owe this honor? Or do you just _desire_ a meeting?”

Tim looked down and glared at his pants, cursing his automatic interest in Slade’s voice, before attempting to cross his legs.

“I actually wondered if you would answer a question for me.”

“Is it about my favorite way to see you under me?”

“Ahh,” Tim’s pants were getting very tight, and he was busily thanking every god he’d ever heard of that he waited to make the call until he got back to his apartment. “No…” _Even if I really want to know now_.

“Have you ever heard of a man called Deadpool? Wears a similar outfit to yours, only shows a single eye opposite of yours, wields to long swords.”

“Where are you?”

Tim frowned, Slade’s voice changed to his deadly hunting tone, all ice and impending death.

“In Gotham, my apartment. You have heard of him then?”

“Stay in your apartment. Make sure all the security is enabled” Slade’s voice paused and Tim could hear the mercenary’s rapid fire typing. “ETA 16 hours. Stay put Drake, or I’ll tie your ass to my bed and you’ll never get to leave.”

“I’m not sure that works as a threat anymore,” Tim answered, _damn honesty_ , holding his legs tighter together. And damn Slade for having such a seductive purr.

“You’ll be chained to my bed for hours before I ever touch you.”

“Oh.” _That would be torture_.

“Indoors Drake. Armed.”

The click in his ear from hanging up, and probably destroying the phone in the process, felt a bit anticlimactic. Slade sounded serious… and the traitor in his pants was depressed at having Slade stop speaking. Tim glared at his, _tight_ , pants again before deciding that a cold shower really would be the best way to end the day.

Besides. It was only Wednesday, so the weekend meant Friday at the earliest, and Slade would be here by then to take care of whatever this ‘Deadpool’ had planned. Tim stopped, clothing dropped to the floor, just outside his shower and stiffened, staring up at the warning light in the corner of his bathroom.

Someone had just broken into his house.

Tim grabbed at the throwing knives hidden in the mirror cabinet just as the door crashed open.

“Drake, come at once Gray-holy fucking shit!”

Tim only had a brief moment to savor his demon brother’s face go from imperious to horrified shock before Damian was rushing away from the door. _Serves him right for barging in, has Dick let him hang around Jason again?_

Very calmly, smirking on the inside, Tim pulled on some sweat pants he left in the bathroom before wandering out towards the ‘kitchen area’ where Damian appeared to be trying to drown himself.

“Damian. I thought you were supposed to be the well-bred one.” Tim smirked quietly at the low bubbling swears coming from the sink. “It is considered courteous to knock.”

“Be silent Drake.” Damian stood straight, half of his dark hair sticking up and glistening wet, he was glowering hard enough to burn Tim. “Grayson requires you presence.”

“I’m busy.” Tim sniffed, getting the coffee pot together. “If he needed something, he should have asked when I was there earlier.”

“Tt. If you were any kind of ‘ _hero’_ you would go when asked.”

“What does Dick want?” Tim’s voice was flat he did _not_ want to deal with Damian right now. “I am busy and I would like to take my shower in peace.”

“He requires your help tracking down a new caped villain seen in Gotham.” Damian’s tone suggested that the idea of needing Tim’s help was repulsive.

 _New caped villain? And would he be clad in orange and blue with a single eye_?

“Leave Damian, if Dick really needs me I’ll be over in the morning, otherwise…” Tim glared harder. “I would like to take my shower.”

“Why he would ask _you_ for help I fail to comprehend,” Damian huffed, one lip curling, and turned away from Tim, walking stiffly to the door.

Tim leaned back against the tiny counter watching his coffee pot boil. It was boiling by the time stopped glaring at the door Damian had exited through. The coffee was unplugged then, Tim was too tired to actually drink it now, and besides the shower was calling him.

~~~~

Of course the next morning Tim really wished he’d had that coffee, or had at least left it for today, or any kind of wakeup call that did not involve someone sitting on his bed. Now if it was Slade, _Deathstroke_ , it would be a good morning. A very good morning.

As it was, Tim refused to believe that the bright Thursday morning was considered the weekend.

“Pizza, little bird? It’s full of lots of nutritious stuff.”

“No it’s not,” Tim groaned and pulled his pillow of his head. “Go away, I’m sleeping.”

“We have a date.”

“I’ve been told to stay inside my apartment.” Tim peered out from under his pillow, Deadpool was currently balancing he pizza box on his nose. “Besides its Thursday morning, not dinner, and not the weekend.”

“Timmy baby, darling, I thought we shared something special!”

“I only met you yesterday.” Tim sat up in his bed, pulling his blankets closer.

“But you were interested,” Deadpool tapped what Tim figured had to be his nose. “And you’re just so gosh darn pretty.”

“Go away please.”

Tim twitched as the pizza box was abandoned; dropping to the floor with a squish, and Deadpool started prowling over the bed, straddling Tim. Muscles tensed as the masked mercenary was inches away from his face, not the best place for an unknown mercenary. No matter how much Tim’s instincts said he _probably_ wasn’t in danger. Maybe.

“Maybe we just need to start our relationship right,” Deadpool started petting Tim through the sheets.

“Let’s have sex.”

“What? No!” Tim whacked the hand trying to pet his thighs. “Back off, I have a…lover.”

“Timmy! You’re cheating on me?” Tears appeared to be spilling from the single eye, _through_ the mask. “We should have sex anyway; I bet you’ll like me better.”

“Get off him or we’ll see how long you can survive your head being cut off and chopped into to fish size pieces.”

Tim looked up, over Deadpool’s wide shoulder, at the very pissed off looking Deathstroke in full costume, sword drawn and looking like he really, _really_ , wanted to stab the other mercenary.

“Move away Drake.”

Tim wriggled out of the bed, slapping again at the hand patting his ass, and moved against the far wall to watch what would happen next. He also noted that he really needed new sweat pants; this was obvious as both mercenaries took the time to stare at the worn thin fabric.

“Deathstroke! I knew we’d meet again. You still haven’t gotten a new tailor, and your boyfriend is hot. Wanna share?”

Deathstroke lunged forwards, sword stabbing through Deadpool’s arm, Tim dropping to the floor as Deadpool fell back blood spiraling across the wall. Tim looked up, one arm raised over his head, as Deadpool started giggling.

“Jesus Slade!” Tim was shocked, jaw dropping open, eyes wide. “You can’t kill him in my bedroom!”

“I wish I could.” Slade sounded wishful. “Deadpool has issues with…”

“Tickles, hey you’re getting blood all over Timmy’s clean walls!” The mercenary coughed, hands coming up to poke at the still vibrating sword.

“Staying dead. He won’t do it.” Slade sounded very depressed at the fact.

“Ah Sladey I didn’t know you cared~” Deadpool was definitely grinning. “You wanna kiss is better Timmy?”

“Shut up. What does it take for you to _die_.” Deathstroke’s growling was almost as hot as his purring Tim thought. Even when it was directed at someone other than himself…

Deathstroke had his knife braced against Deadpool’s neck when they both paused to stare at Tim. Deathstroke reached up with his free hand, pulling his mask off, to stare at Tim incredulously through one eye.

 _Oh. Slade could smell emotions… in this case the traitor in Tim’s all too thin and near see through sweat pants_.

“Drake…” Slade cut his eyes at Deadpool, who might be drooling considering the wet spot in front of his mouth, and put his sword away. By stabbing it through Deadpool’s chest and into the wall.

“Oooh Sladey~ can you smell him? Don’t blame me for your boyfriend’s hotness.” Deadpool was whining as he yanked at the sword pinning him to the wall.

“Shut up.” Slade moved like the large hunting cat he was, looming over where Tim was sitting against the wall. “Drake… is there something you want to tell me?”

“Well,” Tim’s nose scrunched up in a half, _nervous_ , smile. “He’s like yours and Dick’s love child.”

Slade took a step back and looked horrified, reflexively reaching for a knife.

“See! I’m totally hot,” Deadpool was quite happily pointing out as he tugged harder on the sword. “Otherwise people wouldn’t want me to sex up Timmy.”

“Shut up,” Slade narrowed his eyes, searching Tim’s face for something, then he started smirking and held a hand out for Tim.

“Ooh threesome? I could totally do a threesome, ask my fans!”

Slade lifted Tim up, bracing him against the wall next to Deadpool, high enough that he could easily lean forwards and plunder Tim’s gaping mouth. Slick wet muscle probed at the hot cavern of Tim’s mouth, sharp predator teeth cutting into Tim’s tongue, and sucking hard.

“Damn that’s sexy.”

Deadpool grunted sharply as one of Slade’s hands pulled away from petting Tim and jerking his sword back. Tim snickered into Slade’s mouth and bit back.

“Oweee. You’re being mean.” Deadpool muttered prowling up behind Slade and grinning at Tim. “My turn?”

Slade spun with Tim in his arms, dropping him onto the bed one long fingered hand petting down his thighs, before turning back to Deadpool. One hand snatching forwards to pull Deadpool’s mask off, showing scars what were probably burn scars over a handsome face, the mercenary grinning cheekily at him.

“Hey so-“

Slade’s hand lashed forwards, grabbing Deadpool’s tongue and using it to pull the insane mercenary closer, dragging Deadpool’s head into a shaken ‘no’.

“No kissing capiche?” Slade pulled harder as Tim watched from the bed. “Kiss Drake and I’ll rip out your tongue. You can time how long it takes to grow back. And then I’ll rip it out again.”

Deadpool held his hands up, mumbling around Slade’s stony grip on his tongue, wriggling what was left of his eyebrows at Tim.

“What?” Slade growled releasing the captured tongue with irritation.

“I said I’ve already gotten to time how long it takes~” A long leering wink at Tim, “There was hot babe and her partner, very large blond, ripped my tongue out and gave it to her as a present. Only takes about three hours, changed their minds by the way, old Deadpool is _that_ good.”

Slade glanced up at the ceiling and sighed heavily, before turning back to Tim, starting smirk again. Arms flexing as he bent to pull off the top half of his outfit, much to Tim’s drooling satisfaction.

“What does it take to shut you up,” Slade’s voice was long suffering as he leaned over and pulling Tim’s hands tight against the strong metal headboard. Metal because the wooden one had been broken too often, _thank you Slade_ , and those hand were tight around his wrists.

“I’m sure you can put your mouth to _some_ use Deadpool.” Slade wrapped one hand around both of Tim’s tiny wrists, using the other to trail down his bare chest muscles, nail scraping Tim’s pectorals, before looking up at Deadpool.

“Mmm” Deadpool _… yeah he was drooling_ … it was kind of hot.

Deadpool moved to the opposite side of the bed from Slade, slinking over to Tim’s quivering form, licking at scarred lips as one hand grabbed at the all too thin pants. Pants that were quickly ripped away, while Tim writhed against the bed and Deadpool’s probing touches, face lowering as the pants turned into confetti.

“My, my Timmy, is that a really hard dick or what?” Deadpool bent and licked down the length of Tim’s erection before he could give an answer.

“Oh god!” Tim jerked up, pulling against Slade’s grip, trying to press closer to Deadpool’s mouth, in its oh so goodness.

“No need to worship darling, just call me Deadpool,” The mercenary said, _grinning_ , as he pulled away, _slurping_!

“No! Don’t stop! Please don’t stop!” Tim wriggled across the sheets, pulling against Slade’s hands, half shrieking as Deadpool sucked down his cock.

“I admit, you’re much more likeable with your mouth around his dick than when you’re talking.” Slade rubbed down Tim’s chest to pat at Deadpool’s shoulder. “Or maybe it’s just Drake making you look good.”

“More likely,” Deadpool agreed coming off Tim’s cock again _, damn it keep sucking_ , to grin at Slade. “He’s really pretty.”

“He is,” Slade agreed, fingers dipping into Tim’s whining mouth, before running down his neck and chest. “He’s very good in the bedroom department. He’d look even better wrapped around both of us.”

Deadpool was ignoring him, currently too busy holding Tim’s hips up into the air to ick and gnaw at his puckered hole.

Tim gasped and arched up again, mouth meeting Slade’s for another mouth sucking brain stealing kiss, gasping as Deadpool’s spit against his fingers before reaching into his ass, Tim’s whole body twitching against bed.

“Oh gods, don’t stop, if you even think about stopping I’ll kill you.”

“Wow. You’ve corrupted Timmy kitten,” Deadpool almost sounded sad… would have sounded sad except the huge grin as his fingers pressed further inside Tim, three fingers now moving in tandem, in and out _hard_.

“The world would be a terrible place if Drake was left a virgin.” Slade purred, sitting behind Tim and moving his own fingers down to curl around Deadpool’s thrusting inside Tim. “He moans so nice, you should feel him squeezing around you, all those muscles contracting, feels like heaven.”

Slade lifted Tim onto his lap, pulling him back against his chest, Tim’s hands still captured in Slade’s tight grip. Deadpool digging with his fingers, making Tim jump and wriggle, and stretching those fingers apart.

Slade’s chest was naked under Tim, clearly feeling the hard nipples pressing into his back, and his pants pulled far down enough to easily free his own erection which was now happily rubbing against Tim’s _empty_ cleft.

Deadpool was lying on top of Tim, teeth buried in the side of his neck, while his cock rubbed against both Tim’s own erect flesh and his needy asshole. Then it was playing more against his ass, pushing steadily harder against the tight ring of flesh and muscle, each thrust pressing a little bit more in.

“Slow down,” Slade groaned, pulling Tim tighter against his chest, one hand going for the lube before Deadpool could push any further into Tim dry. “Repeat after me Deadpool, if we want Tim more than once, we need make it good.”

“Right,” Deadpool smirked, wet gloved fist jacking up and down Tim’s cock, chewing on the side of Tim’s cock, waiting for Slade to get the lube out.

Which he did, quickly slicking his own fingers up, before passing it on to Deadpool. Then thick fingers from both mercenaries had slippery fingers stretching out Tim’s small hole, pultiple fingers pulling into two different directions away from each other.

“Slade~” Deadpool was cooing as he pulled back to lube up his erection before pressing back closer to Tim, heated erection nudging in just past the tight ring of muscle. “He feels good.”

Slade bit at Tim’s shoulder, pushing against his hole beside Deadpool, pushing Tim’s body into the air as they both prodded the tight hole. Then he was flipping Tim around, pulling the younger man to rest chest to chest, on Slade’s abs.

“Drake… what do you feel?”

Tim groaned as he felt Deadpool slipping in first, wet and slick enough to inch past tight walls with just enough pain to feel right, sliding in through twitching muscles. Slade was still holding Tim’s wrists in one hand, the other guiding his cock in next to Deadpool, so when the insane mercenary pulled out, both pushed back in.

Shrieks filled the air as Tim thrashed about as both cock’s pushed in at once, stretching muscles past tight and into the realm of scream worthy pleasure at the burn. He could feel both erections moving simultaneously back and forth, pressing against sensitive walls, both stabbing at his sweet spot and driving Tim _insane_.

“Oh god harder,” Tim threw his head back against Slade’s chest, thumping harder, trying to get Slade and Deadpool to push _harder already damn it_ , keening high pitched. “Please harder damn it! Almost there!”

“Patience is a virtue Drake,” Slade purred, holding Tim’s head back against him, and deeply kissing him.

Moaning into Slade’s mouth, bouncing hard against both mercenaries, hands started pulling at Tim’s hard, _stiff_ , flesh. Then he was screaming as one hand disappeared only to come back spit soaked and pressing against his sensitive slit. Tim was coming _hard_ and his vision was whiting out as they _kept thrusting_.

Tim was collapsing, _limp_ , against Slade’s chest, to wrung out to move anymore, just arching his back so Deadpool and Slade could continue pumping inside him. Which is why Slade easily set Tim to one side, Deadpool still pumping hard into Tim, then rolling off the bed and prowling off out of sight. Tim could only half follow Slade’s movements, he just felt too good to seriously care what he was up to, but…

“That’s cheating Sladey,” Deadpool groaned, freezing inside Tim, tightening his hold on the vigilante’s hips. Tight enough to break through the skin and leaning forwards to bite at Tim’s nipples.

Rolling his head to one side, Tim’s eyes widened as he saw, _felt_ , Slade start moving inside Deadpool. Each thrust moving Deadpool in and out of Tim, with Deadpool starting to move again, Tim started moaning harder as Deadpool hit his prostate and was then forced deeper inside Tim with each of Slade’s thrusts.

“Too much!” Tim shoved a fist into his mouth, biting his own skin, trying to keep from breaking and screaming himself hoarse as he started getting excited again.

Deadpool was arching against Slade, pressing his bare face into Tim’s chest, biting at where ribs brushed up against his skin, while Slade pushed harder. Then Slade was leaning over biting and sucking the flesh just under Tim’s chin.

That was Tim finally noticed that his hands were free, splayed out across the bed, and immediately moved them to his new painfully erect skin. Jacking up and down quickly, near screaming as Deadpool kept hitting his spot, whipping his head back and forth as Slade bit his neck and Deadpool chewed his way across his chest.

Then Tim was coming for a second time, his walls tightening against Deadpool, and a matching splash of hot release inside as Deadpool’s rhythm shattered and he was bucking into Tim and back against Slade. Tim was shuddering as Deadpool fell against his chest, still moving weakly inside Tim, as Slade moved once, twice, four more times before exhaling and licking up Tim’s neck.

“Move Deadpool,” Slade huffed a laugh as he pulled out, pushing the other mercenary to one side of Tim, spooning around on the other. “Don’t want to crush Drake.”

Tim sighed as he was turned and pulled back against Slade again. God that afterglow was amazing and so nice. Much better when both of his bed partners were silent as well. Now if only that niggling feeling of something missing, or forgetting something important, would go away…

“Oh god.”

“What Drake,” Slade almost sounded tired, wrapping his arms tighter around Tim’s waist.

“I’m late.”

“For breakfast? I brought pizza.”

“No, I was supposed to go see my brother’s this morning.”

~~~~

“You’re late Tim.” Dick had his Batman voice on, and was tapping a gloved hand against his chest. “Where have you been?”

Tim dropped his bag, ignoring Dick’s disappointed look, and Damian’s evil grin and pulling his coat up higher on his throat. Not that either of his brothers was paying much attention to him.

“I told Damian last night that I have other things I need to take care of.” _Such as sex with two mercenaries_. “I got here as soon as I was able.”

Dick opened his mouth, probably to tell Tim off, but shook his head and walked to the computer. Damian waited until Dick had his back turned before shooting Tim another superior look.

“We found evidence of a new mercenary operating in Gotham,” Dick started pulling up a news report, no photos, and beckoning Tim over. “Some witnesses described a man who looks like Deathstroke.”

Deathstroke was said with obvious anger, and maybe a bit of longing, and Tim was really happy that Dick had no idea about him and Deathstroke.

“But we know Deathstroke was in Cuba last night,” Dick paused looking at another report, “Assassinating some political figures.”

Tim didn’t want to know.

“Anyway we went through all reports of villains similar to Deathstroke,” Once again the emotions in Dick’s voice we mixed. “And we found one.”

“Oh,” Tim leaned against the computer stand, seeing Deadpool’s photo, really grainy and bad photo, pop up. “Than what do you need me for?”

“Extra eyes on the street.” Dick shrugged and ignored Damian’s swearing protests. “This Deadpool has a long rap sheet, Bruce’s notes say he’s very dangerous and has most of Deathstroke’s abilities, he’s just insane.”

 _Yeah, fun insane_.

“Okay, I’ll be sure to keep an eye out for him.” That would not be a hardship at all.

The intercom crackled, all three vigilantes looking up, as Alfred’s voice came over the radio.

“Master Tim,” a long distinguished pause, possibly some offended British sniffing. “There is a _man_ at the door for you.”

“A man?” Dick looked curious while Damian had disgust written over his features. “Who would come here looking for Tim? Who is it Alf?”

“He has not taken the liberty to inform me Master Dick.” There was another supremely offended smirk and what sounded like a brief slapping war, followed by someone who was _not_ Alfred swearing and begging.

“He does insist upon saying something to you Maser Tim.” A pause filled with more apologetic whining. “Would you like to hear it?”

“Ummm.” Tim looked at his brothers who were staring at him expectantly, Tim wondered when they forgot the front hall had many cameras installed, along with the rest of the manor. “Sure go ahead Alfred.”

 _I know I’m going to regret this_ …

 “ _Hello my baby, hello my sweetheart, hello my ragtime gal_. Timmy babe we still have that date!”


End file.
